


The Voice in the Hills

by ihavetodothis



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Crack, M/M, Major Spoilers, Not Serious, Spoilers for after 11/19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavetodothis/pseuds/ihavetodothis
Summary: Akechi has been trying to move into Protag's ass for months now, but his ass belongs to another, very special boy.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	The Voice in the Hills

**Author's Note:**

> Atlus is a coward. There are spoilers for after 11/19~

It was the fifty millionth battle that day and everyone was tired. The shadow had thrown away lots of money onto the ground before turning into dust and blowing away.

( _ Blow, Blow, Oh the Places you Will Blow) _

Joker kneeled down and put all the money into a bag.   
  


“So when are we gonna split up all the money?” Ryuji asked.

Joker, cool as a cucumber pulled from Goro Akechi’s cold heart, closed up the bag and burped. It smelled like knock-off Fanta because Atlus wouldn’t want to deal with a copyright infringement.

“Never. The money is all mine. I have 9,999,999 yen and it is all mine.”

“Why did you leave some of it on the ground?” Makoto asked.

There was now a pile of yen on the ground in a heap. Joker had reached his yen cap.

“That’s for Steve Jobs.”

“Steve Jobs is dead,” Futaba cries from her UFO. Nobody can see her but she is there, somewhere, watching.

“Shhh. It’s for Steve. Rest in Peace, Steve.”

Yusuke’s stomach growled loudly enough that the entire palace shook. He hadn’t eaten in 600 months. He kept spending his money on lobsters and lobster food, but never ate them. His whole dorm was full of lobsters now. Nobody could get in. He slept in the station square at night, curled up in Old Man Yoshida’s lap as Yoshida sung to him the sweetest, most patriotic songs and pat him on the head, something Madarame never did.

“We are all tired,” Ann complained, her boobs stretching for 5 million miles and bouncing like two ripe melons in the Venetian sun.

“Here, eat this.” Joker threw them some curry he had made a year ago. “And drink this.”

It was coffee he had brewed in 2006.

But, he knew it was time to leave. So, Morgana got onto all fours and became a car, opening his little furry cat bunghole wide for the gang to hop in. They drove off back to Tokyo, having secured the treasure route the first day because Joker’s main persona had Victory Cry and he wanted to spend more time hanging out with Yusuke.

Yusuke did not have enough money to take the train back to his Lobster Den, but nobody had the money to spot him. Protag’s wallet bulged with 9,999,999 yen, but he shook his head and shamed Yusuke for even asking. How dare he. Protag had four part-time jobs, scrounging just to get by when he didn’t have to pay rent and had a lifetime supply of curry and coffee. How dare he.

Yusuke hangs his head and goes to curl up in his new pappy, Yoshido’s, lap.

_ “Gotta make ‘em listen, gotta make ‘em listen… _ ” Yoshido sung to him kindly. It was in the melody of “Tik Tok” by Ke$ha. All was well.

Protag watched the sweet sight and his heart swelled. He couldn’t look away any longer. He dropped his pants and bent over for Yusuke.

“You may move in.”

He was speaking about his ass, of course. It had never been for sale, but he had room to spare for a poor orphan boy in need of a place to lay his weary head. Yusuke wiped away a tear.

“You have my thanks,” he painted in the sky, then hopped into Protag’s bunghole and makes a cozy little home.

Of course, as he was Yusuke and Yusuke was he, he started to decorate. Soon, Protag’s stinky bunghole was a swell and lovely bungalow, a perfect place for Yusuke to spend the rest of his days.

The detective boy came running up. Actually, he was strutting, doing that little bouncy walk that only The Gays do. He was wearing one glove. The other glove was stuffed into Protag’s boxers “for later”.

“I thought your ass was not for sale,” Goro chastised and Protag crossed his arms over his chest, feeling drained. His SP was full. He has Victory Cry, remember.

“It is not.”

“Then, why is Yusuke allowed to make himself a home in your steaming hot, fresh and ripe bung?”

“I am The Gay,” Yusuke whispers from deep within Protag.

Akechi erupts like mentos in coke.

“I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO MOVE INTO YOUR BUNGHOLE FOR MONTHS NOW????” he cries.

“Yusuke is a good boy. You shot me in the head and sold me out to the Hot Fuzz.”

“I was literally the original gay? I thought I was fated to move into your bunghole, one glorious day?”

_ “Let’s not do that today.” _

A voice rang out from the hills. It was high-pitched and annoying — ethereal like an abandoned Blockbuster in Ohio.

“No, Akechi-chan. My bunghole is not for you. Repent.”

Akechi sent a Megaton Raid in his direction, but Protag had Kaguya Picaro equipped, who repelled the attack.

“I see,” Akechi said with a hum. He threw his other glove at Protag and ran away.

The Death Note and an apple dropped out of his pocket. He was really Light Yagami this whole time.

_ “Aren’t you tired?” _

The same voice plagued all of Tokyo. Women and children covered their ears. It was too horrible. But, Protag just used the yellow phone, so his Homeroom teacher came over and massaged him  _ “aaaaalllllll over” _ , so he could go out and see a movie with his best bud, Yusugay.

“You are like Theo,” Yusuke said as the movie played. “And I am like Vincent van Hoe.”

They then made out for 100 years.

“I must incest that you stop. If you have taken residence inside of my ass, you better act with dignity and respect.”

“Aye.”

But, that part was cut out because Protag was supposed to date his Homeroom teacher, some sleazy reporter lady who is absolutely useless, the country bumpkin fortune teller who waited months to return his 100,000 yen, and his general practitioner. Not the boy who had taken residence in his bunghole. That? Was not allowed.

It was time to go home. Protag did not visit the bathhouse because he had enough charm already. He had not bathed in months, since his charm was maxed. His stench had a 2-mile radius and was fatal.

Inside of Protag, Yusuke slept soundly. The naughty little Shelf Elves were making their rounds, collecting what wares they could to sell in the morning. Yongen-Jaya was quiet.

In the morning, Protag read a 500-page book in 20 minutes on the train. He had read the speed reading book, so this made sense.

When they all gathered at the hideout with the plan to run into shadows with their Morgana car for hours to gain experience _ (It’s free),  _ Haru appeared in front of them. She had flown in with her fluffy hair, like Dumbo might have done if he had been a 17-year-old girl and not an elephant.

“It is nice to meet you.”

The game was then over.


End file.
